The Originals: Want You to Stay
by Les Missedyercalls
Summary: I stare at the woman in the mirror. Her locks are long and blonde. She appears graceful; slightly tedious. Her lips curve upward, though she rarely smiles. I cannot escape the sadness in her eyes. "Very well, sister," Klaus replies, and I understand that this is the reason our love could never be true. If I cannot have Niklaus, I no longer want to be immortal.


Author's Note: This is a broken story (Hurt, comfort, angst and all that) based on the relationship between Rebekah and Klaus developed for the first season of The Originals (2013). It draws along the lines of a potential incestuous union between Rebekah and Niklaus once he has made it clear that she can never find love outside of him and he becomes self-aware that his only constant is her. The first chapter is a kind of prologue designed to be either extended or finalized as a one-shot, depending upon reader support. Please review and place your opinion upon whether you would like to see a continuation or not. Extending the story would explore the primary relationship further while touching upon developing relationships of other characters.

This story is for entertainment purposes and contains mature content. The Originals (2013) is a program owned and aired by The CW Network and its characters were created by Julie Plec.

1:

Standing in front of a broken mirror. Arms at my sides. Naked, as though never clothed.

_Revealing_. Perhaps too much.

I stare at the woman in the mirror. Her locks are long and blonde. She appears graceful; slightly tedious. Her lips curve upward, though she rarely smiles. I cannot escape the sadness in her eyes.

She is a _stranger_ to me. Black and detached, like an open void. She has not felt love toward a man in over a hundred years. Not _true_ love. Not the love she wants.

He's made it clear she will never be loved. Going outside of the immediate family means retribution. Elijah could love the one woman Klaus has continually hunted for Centuries, while I am doomed to a life of solitude.

How is it fair, the way he treats me? I once sought answers, though now I am numb; _broken_. I know that any conclusion will not redeem me, now.

The woman in the mirror blinks. She speaks to me using her body. She tells me she yearns to be touched. Matthew had touched her, but only when Klaus wasn't looking. Marcel had touched her, but only when he wanted something. The only man who touches her constantly; deeply, is the one man she is _forbidden_ to love.

A pair of hands come forth from behind her. The woman in the mirror takes in a shrill breath and closes her eyes. She sensed his touch long before he opened his arms to her. He begins at her belly, tracing the skin as though it were a map of a conquest he plans to pursue.

His fingertips graze the line just above the hair between her legs. She holds herself at attention, unsure whether he will go _down_ or _up_. He stops just at the base of her navel and ponders his next movement, perhaps to tease her; perhaps to _punish_ himself.

His hands move back as though they are going to leave her. She opens her eyes and begs silently for him to _stay_. He reaches her sides and draws two lines across either side of her form, halting only when he has found the curved edge of her breasts.

Coming forward once more, his fingertips find their way to her nipples. His nails feel like claws as he caresses the tips and draws circles around them like he would exploring a fresh canvas. I am his _muse_.

The woman in the mirror is _aroused_. She lets out a long moan, ignoring the idea that anyone could overhear her. She no longer cares; her desires are finally being fulfilled. He wants to be inside of her, and she is more than willing to take him.

His lips drift to her earlobe as he takes it between his teeth. He pulls sharply and her earlobe glides over his fangs as he threatens to bite it off before setting it free. His voice is a whisper of warning, "No one will _ever_ have you. You are _mine_ and only mine. _Always_ remember that, or I will put you back in the box where I awakened you from."

A sound distracts me from the woman in the mirror. Knocking from outside the bathroom door. It is soft, and I know it is _he_.

"Rebekah? You alright in there, love?" Klaus asks through the door between us.

"Yes, I'll be right out," I reassure him, taking heed that he used _love_ to beckon me.

"Very well, sister," he replies, and I understand that this is the reason our love could never be true.

I hear him leave. I turn back to face the woman in the mirror. She is saddened; lost to the void inside of her once more.

If I cannot have Niklaus, I no longer want to be immortal.


End file.
